


In Plain Sight

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Cancer Arc, Case Fic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 12:02:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11531811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: Mulder and Scully investigate the disappearances of three young women from a drop in centre. Set during the cancer arc. (Written for a prompt - Mulder and Scully are in a room with a crowd of people, every time X happens, someone vanishes…)





	1. Chapter 1

The building was a weatherboard stuck between a cheap fashion chain and a liquor store. It was set back from the street so you wouldn’t notice it. Its dour exterior made even duller by its neon-bright neighbours whose signs blared out their specials. 

Scully trod up the step to the door. The heat from the main street had faded in the hall’s shaded location and for that she was grateful. Hours in an air-conditioned car had not prepared her for the humidity here and grey tropical weather was as miserable as grey winter weather. 

“You could easily miss this place,” Mulder said, taking the creaking fly door from her. “If you didn’t know where to look.” 

“Maybe that’s the point,” she said, feeling the welcome relief of the cool foyer, darkened by its dearth of windows and brightened by the riot of posters and drawings pinned to the wide corkboard. Amongst the rainbow of marketing material and hand-painted pictures, a blurry photo caught her eye. 

“Selina Sandoval.” Mulder peered over her shoulder. She could smell his shaving foam. She was grateful for those little things these days. He tapped the photo. 

“Good spot, Scully. She was the first girl to go missing. Eight months ago. Aged 17. Vanished without a trace.” 

Scully ran her fingers down the white border of the photo. It irked her on some base level that whoever had printed the photo had chosen a gloss print, akin to making a lurid show out of a tragedy. “I shouldn’t have to remind you that nothing vanishes without a trace, Mulder.” 

He sucked in a breath and moved down the corkboard. She watched his jaw flexing and marvelled at how unthinking she could be. “I’m sorry, Mulder. That’s not what I meant.” 

Nodding, he pushed out a long sigh. “In different circumstances I’m sure a forensics team would have found a wealth of evidence in our house. When my sister disappeared. But some victims are invisible even before they go missing.”


	2. Chapter 2

The door labelled ‘office’ opened and a pair of teen boys wandered out, pushing each other and laughing until they saw Mulder. The taller boy stopped and turned back to the office, calling a name she couldn’t make out. A woman appeared and sent the boys away. They sidled past and pushed open the door, allowing a blast of heat to wrap itself around her.  
“Agents Mulder and Scully, I presume?” the woman said, opening the door wider. She welcomed them in and offered them water. Scully sipped gratefully, but Mulder stood, hands in pockets reading from a leaflet he’d picked off the sideboard. “I’m Carol Arwen, youth development manager here. You said on the phone you had some questions.”  
“Specifically about three young women who are missing and were last seen here,” Mulder flipped open his notepad for effect. Scully knew damned well he’d memorised the names and details of the girls and their mysterious disappearances. He would know their favourite bands, the names of their childhood pets, their zodiac signs and anything else he figured might give them a lead in what were probably already shelved cases. “Riley Sanchez, Ami Rahman and…”  
“Selina Sandoval,” Carol added. “I’m aware of the cases. Although I wasn’t here when she went missing. I’ve been in charge here for six months. I’m not sure what else I can add that I didn’t already say in the police reports for the other two girls. I take it you’ve read them?”  
Scully looked at Mulder. His eyes narrowed just enough to let her know he was interested in this woman’s attitude. “Sometimes a person can remember something significant even after many renditions of the same story.” He smiled at Carol and the woman softened visibly.  
A clank and a crash interrupted the moment. “We’ve got painters in. We got a grant from the city some months back to do some renovations. This place is old but the young people love it. Some of them are learning construction and painting skills.”  
Scully looked out the door to see a young man walk past in grubby overalls and carrying a tool bag. “Ms Arwen,” she said, hoping to leverage from the changing attitude. “These young women were under your care when they disappeared.”  
Carol stiffened again. “The young people who attend this centre are not under our care. It is a drop-in centre and they’re free to come and go. We provide counselling, job skills training, somewhere for young people to feel safe. These people are some of the most vulnerable in our society and we are very careful to maintain an open door policy.”  
Scully felt the familiar pressure at the bridge of her nose. The tickle. The warm release. She scrabbled in her jacket pocket for a handkerchief but Mulder beat her to it. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, though she wasn’t sure who she was addressing.  
“There are bathrooms down the hall, on the right,” Carol said, her nose crinkling a little.  
Mulder folded his arms but his expression didn’t match the defensive pose. She hated how that face made her feel.


	3. Chapter 3

How many mirrors had she stood before, watching the evidence of this disease drip from her? How many more apologies could Mulder make for her, to sheriffs and witnesses and the bereaved? It wasn’t that she felt unfit for duty, but it was becoming a strain on the equilibrium of their partnership. She knew he was more than willing to bear the extra weight she was becoming, but she just wasn’t willing to allow the balance to tip so far towards his favour.  
His knock had become more hollow with each case. She could imagine how he paced before the door, desperate to get his timing perfect. Too early and he risked her burning embarrassment, too late and he risked her icy apathy. She wanted so much to offer him her unconditional honesty, to let him in literally and metaphorically. But she just wasn’t there yet.  
“I’m fine, Mulder. Just give me a minute longer.”  
She cleaned her face, smoothed her shirt down and opened the door. Lines in his forehead deepened as she walked out but she gave him a curt nod and he inhaled as though he could suck the dying out of her and suffer it himself.


	4. Chapter 4

Carol was tidying papers in her office and Mulder ushered Scully towards the large hall at the back of the building. Kids shuffled about in clusters. The noise was cacophonous. She cleared her throat, tasting the metallic phlegm.  
“This is where the magic happens,” he said, flashing her the smile usually reserved for deflection and the subtle art of Mulderism.  
She took the bait, keen to deflect herself. Deflect him away from his cloying concern and his martyr complex. “The magic, Mulder?”  
A young woman stood to their right wearing head to toe grunge brown, from the turtleneck cropped at the midriff, to the corduroy boot cut jeans over tan cowboy boots. Her hair was a mousy Rachel bob and she wore little make up. Scully only noticed her because she drifted in before a noisy mob of goths decked out in frill-necked shirts and velvet jackets and theatrical black kohl artwork around their eyes. Scully mused that the girl on her own stood out more despite her obvious intentions to blend in. Her rounded shoulders, her downward pout, her quietness. It all shouted don’t look at me.  
“Every Wednesday and Friday, The Awesome Armani performs mind-blowing illusions and stunning acts of mystery.”  
“The Awesome Armani?” she chuffed. “Is he a designer magician?”  
Mulder bent to whisper in her ear. “She is the new breed of illusionist, according to the flyer in Carol Arwen’s office. And she was performing on the afternoons that the three young women went missing. It’s a link, Scully. Our first.”  
The lights went out. The crowd hushed. Scully watched Mulder’s profile, caught in the vague glow from behind the main doors. His jaw cracked in the silence. The sudden glare of the stage lights dazzled her and she blinked back sharp tears. The Awesome Armani wore a glittering purple jumpsuit with clinging bodice and wide leg pants. Her hair was a streaming silver wig. Mulder chuckled. Scully sighed and scanned the room. Grunge girl had gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Mulder rubbed his chin and Scully listened to the rasp of it. That masculine of sounds. It conjured feelings she had mostly tried to banish, to shut away for fear of where they may lead; out of respect for their partnership, her job. But lately, with death her constant conscience, she had allowed herself to marvel in the tiny moments that made up a life. The colour of cornflowers in morning sun, the constant wonder of a rainbow, the cool of freshly-laundered sheets on a warm night. The scratch of her partner’s fingers against his stubble. She’d come to know that a person could relish in life with so much more freedom when they were facing their own mortality.  
“You said you saw this young woman and then she was just gone.”  
She yawned on to her sleeve. Her head felt full, heavy. Her neck ached. Her feet tingled. “She was there,” she pointed to the mid point of the room, which seemed further away than from their vantage point on the stage. “The lights went out, she wasn’t there anymore, but that doesn’t mean she disappeared, Mulder. People are reported to have vanished without trace all over the world. But there is usually a rational explanation.”  
“English aristocrat Richard John Bingham, Lord Lucan, disappeared in 1974. No body has ever been found. He simply vanished,” Mulder said, peering behind the second pair of stage curtains. Dust motes jumped around in the shaft of light from the window high on the left hand wall. “Jean Spangler, an actress, hasn’t been seen since 7 October 1949. In 1966, the Beaumont children went to the beach in Adelaide, South Australia and never came home.”  
She stepped down the wooden stairs and turned to face him. He held his arms wide and bowed to the left, right and centre. She applauded. “Those people are all dead, Mulder. Just because the evidence hasn’t been presented in a court or sifted through in a lab, doesn’t mean anything supernatural happened to them.”  
“And grunge girl? What happened to her?”  
Scully shrugged. “She left the room. There were no doubt others who did too. I didn’t do a headcount on the way in or the way out. I simply noticed that girl.”  
“Why? Why her, Scully? What made her stand out?”  
Her nose was dry and sticky. She pressed the back of her finger to it and shook her head. “She didn’t want to be noticed. That made her noticeable.”


	6. Chapter 6

The town was dreary in the evening heat. The buildings were a mish-mash of old and new, all of them ugly. The diner was shiny and her head throbbed at its garishness. She stabbed at her chicken salad. The taste for things had mainly gone. She ate out of duty. She watched Mulder tucking into his cheeseburger and longed for the days she could eat with abandon. She thought about a time he’d wiped barbecue sauce from her face. She’d been embarrassed then, wondering what he must think of her. But now she knew his touch was designed to bring her in, to acknowledge their trust. He wasn’t much good with words. But he was the master of the gesture.  
“Selina Sandoval was last seen at the magic show. At least ten kids saw her. One of them,” he looked at his notepad, “Marshall Comans, spoke to her. He said, and I quote, ‘she was kinda sad, man. She was neat and all but real sad. But she dug the magic tricks and she always looked pretty on Wednesdays and Fridays’. Selina was there at 5pm. And she hasn’t been seen since. It’s the same with Ami and Riley.”  
“And you think the illusionist is involved somehow?”  
He looked out the window and her gaze followed his. The sky was brown, dirty with rain. This place, its vibe, was so oppressive she half-sympathised with the desire to simply vanish.  
“Three girls go missing from a crowded room during the same show, there are dozens of witnesses, none of whom saw the girls leave. But how did they get out of the room? Even I’m not gullible enough to believe they were disappeared when the lights turned back on. I think it’s more likely these girls were meeting someone. And I think that Carol Arwen is using the centre as a cover.”  
She frowned, tempted to make a joke about pulling rabbits from hats, but she felt too hot. “That’s quite a leap.”  
He shook more salt onto his fries. “She’s not Carol Arwen. Her real name is Amanda Rosowski. She has form, did a spell for fraud. She’s a good old-fashioned confidence trickster.”  
He had been busy researching while she was busy dying. It stung. She could feel her blood burn in her veins. “And what scam is she pulling running a centre for disadvantaged youth? It’s hardly frequented by the rich and famous.” She hated these cases – ones that should be assigned to the local PD, ones where the real illusion was how Mulder managed to convince her it was an X-File. “We shouldn’t be here.”  
He startled when she stood up. She dabbed her lips and threw the napkin on the plate, knocking salad leaves onto the table. The hot dribble caught her by surprise and she grabbed the napkin back, jamming Caesar sauce against her nostrils and cursing Mulder for caring enough to already be pouring water onto his napkin and taking her dirty one away. The cool of the cloth was a relief but she bit back the tears.  
“You’re right, Scully. We shouldn’t be here. You should go home. I can take it from here.”


	7. Chapter 7

They’d argued for longer than normal. Until she had given in just so she didn’t have to hear Fox Mulder beg. He stood too close, with his hands on his hips and his jaw so taut she could hear his top and bottom teeth creaking and grinding together. That noise had buried itself in her brain and she could still hear it now, despite the monotonous whirr of the ceiling fan. He told her he would look further into Carol Arwen. He told her he would do the legwork on the missing girls. He told her he would ask around about grunge girl. What he hadn’t told her was that she was redundant. And she wouldn’t allow herself to be that.  
The centre was busy even on a Thursday morning. She was grateful to get out of the oppressive heat. A storm was brewing and the looming sky glowered. Some of the kids were working on resumes and job applications, some were playing pool, others were kicking back. According to one young man with a lazy smile and acne scarring her partner had already left.  
“Dude’s cool. How hard is it to become an FBI agent?”  
Three other boys behind him laughed and shoved him. “You can’t be an agent, man. You’ll end up arresting half your own family.”  
Scully smiled and felt lighter as she walked to the hall. It was empty, dusty and strangely lit by the silvery sunlight streaming through the thick clouds and the high windows on either side. There was a faint chemical smell, something she hadn’t noticed when the hall was full. She looked up at ceiling and realised the white was brighter there. It had been recently painted.  
Rumbling thunder rolled outside, a long, slow drawl.  
She closed her eyes to remember how it felt when the magic show was on. The excitement building. The clamouring sound of voices rising and rising before the utter silence when the lights went out. In the blink of an eye. A sudden change. Life could do that. It wasn’t really magic.  
She walked around the edge of the hall, checking out the posters, the skirting, the picture rails, the old nails sticking out of the walls, the stage steps and stage itself, the broom cupboard, the electrical box, the backstage area. It was all the same as it had been.  
Thunder cracked and she started, her heart racing. She swallowed and chided herself as she returned to the back and stood where she had been yesterday evening. She closed her eyes as the storm picked up a pace. She saw the first lightning flash even with her eyes closed. Where had the girls gone? What had they in common? Did they meet with foul play? What did Carol Arwen have to gain here or was she merely paying her societal dues?  
When she opened her eyes, she turned to go but a behind her a young man stood with a cart of paint, rollers and other tools. She gasped.  
“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I thought it was empty.”  
Collecting herself, she removed her badge from her jacket pocket and showed him. “I’m here looking into the disappearance of three young women. How long have you been doing renovations here?”  
He shrugged and looked over his shoulder to the door. “Since the beginning of the year, I guess. Me and some others, we’re here a coupla times a week. Painting and fixing it up, you know?”  
Scully nodded. The room crackled with the next lightning strike. Thunder boomed. The man shifted on his feet and seemed to be waiting for her next move.  
“Did you know the girls?”  
He shook his head, again looking over his shoulder. His right foot bounced off the floor below him and she noticed the outline on the wooden boards. A faint rectangle carved out by grooves. She bent down and ran her hands around it, feeling the grit stick under her nails. The storm roared outside.  
“What’s this?”  
She looked up and the man had gone, leaving his cart. And Mulder stood above her.


	8. Chapter 8

He dropped down to join her, his eyes darkened by the atmosphere. “What’s going on?”  
“I was just asking the painter about the girls.”  
“What painter?”  
She rubbed dust between her finger and thumb. “The young man who pushed this cart into the room. He was just here.”  
“I didn’t see anyone.” Lines crinkled between his brows. He dipped his face a little, softened his tone. “Are you okay, Scully?”  
Lightning sizzled in the sky. She stood up, light-headed. “I’m fine. He was here. And then the thunder struck and you were here.” She didn’t know why she was saying these things. It made no sense but recently nothing they did made sense. She exhaled as the thunder rumbled. “What’s down there, Mulder?”  
He was digging at the edges of the floorboards with his pocket knife. He didn’t stop to answer her. She felt sluggish, thirsty. She wanted to sit in armchair with a mug of tea and let the world go on without her. She just didn’t have the energy or the will. But he was digging and pulling and hefting and heaving.  
“It’s moving. Help me lift it up, Scully.”  
Inertia pinned her. She could see him scrabbling at the edges to lift the boards, but she couldn’t bring herself to bend down to help him. He looked up at her, confused. A crack of thunder so loud split the air and the floor trembled beneath her. At the same moment, the floorboard came free with such force that Mulder tipped back and landed on his ass with an uncomfortable thud. Carol Arwen appeared at the doorway and the young painter stood at her side.  
“What’s going on?” Carol strode across the floor and the echoes of her heeled boots reverberated around Scully’s head.  
Mulder knelt forward and shone his flashlight into the hole where the boards had been. “We’re going to need a forensics team.”  
Scully watched Carol Arwen’s face crumple as her own legs bowed and she felt herself drop gracelessly to the wooden floor.


	9. Chapter 9

Mulder’s arm around her shoulders meant so many things. Strength and partnership, togetherness and comfort, pulling back and holding off. She didn’t have the composure yet to know which one fitted this scenario. The bright white ceiling glared down at her. Her tailbone was pushed against something hard and jarring pain pulsed down her thighs. Her mouth was dry, her eyes sticky. There was blood oozing from her nose. Mulder’s voice wafted around. Someone else was looking over her. Short brown hair waving around her face, beige tank, tan jeans. Grunge girl.  
The clinic stall was claustrophobic, ugly striped grey curtains hemming the in. The feeling of being unable to break free was made worse by Mulder’s presence. He hated hospitals and medical facilities and sat coiled in the chair like a cut snake.  
“Who was she?”  
Releasing his pent-up energy with a hand slap to his knees, startled her. “Who?”  
“Grunge girl.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“She was there, Mulder. The girl in brown was there when I came round. Standing next to Carol Arwen.”  
He stood up abruptly, leant his hands on the bed rail, shook his head. “I’d like to take you home. You can’t travel by yourself.”  
She pushed the sheet off her and swung her legs round. “I’m fine, Mulder. I just need to take the rest of the afternoon and get some fluids in me.”  
“We’ll get the preliminary results on the analysis of the bones tomorrow.” He put his hands behind his head and stretched. “You shouldn’t be here. You’re…Scully, you’re…”  
“Imagining things? Going crazy? Getting in your way? Making you uncomfortable?”  
The chair wheezed as he fell back into it. “God, Scully. No. I..I..just…you were so pale and you were unresponsive and I…I was…I need you with me, Scully. But I need you to be healthy. I hate seeing you like this. I hate it.” He slammed the arm of the chair and she could have just wrapped herself around him to absorb his fear. Should have.  
Instead, she picked up her jacket and nodded at him. “Let’s go and find grunge girl.”


	10. Chapter 10

Walking in Mulder’s shadow eased the thud of blood in her head somewhat but nausea dragged at her stomach. She sipped the bottled water he had thrust in to her hand, enjoying its cool trickle down her throat, but wishing she could sit still to regain some calm.  
“If Carol Arwen is a front, what is she covering for, Mulder?”  
“Narcotics, people trafficking, money laundering. I can’t find a connection between the girls other than they were all runaways and all boarded at the same halfway house. They came from different states, had different stories – all of them tragic. Selina’s parents died when she was a baby. She’d been in and out of care all her life. Ami fell in with the wrong crowd and got hooked on drugs. Her wealthy parents sent her to rehab but she absconded and ended up here. Riley has a history of self-harm. She’s the local girl. She’d been visiting the centre for years.”  
She followed him into the hallway of a narrow building set between a laundrette and a pawn shop. Coppery streaks ran down the pale grey concrete tiles either side of the red door. The smell of must and mildew caught in her throat and she gagged. Mulder turned in a flash and put his hands on her shoulders.  
“I’m okay, Mulder. Really.” She took the handkerchief he gave her and held it over her nose.  
“This is where the girls lived.”  
Scully looked around and took in the dingy interior. There were mail boxes along one wall. The fluoro flickered. A fly buzzed against the ratty nylon net curtain that hung off its rail over the small window and muted the only source of light. At the end of the hall was a communal kitchen. A boy and girl sat at the plastic garden chairs on the opposite side of a small formica table. A small oven and hob, kettle, toaster, microwave, two fridges, a freezer and cupboards with no doors filled with pots and pans. The pantry contained stock items. The bench tops were littered with bread crumbs and coffee rings and tomato seeds. The smell of rancid peelings and stale cigarette smoke filled the air.  
“We’re looking for a young woman,” Mulder said, showing his badge to the couple at the table.  
“Ain’t we all,” the boy replied, looking at the girl with a lazy grin.  
“Fuck you, Nico,” she said, lighting a Morley. “What woman?”  
Scully smiled at the girl, noting her high cheekbones and the way the skin was drawn around her mouth. She needed a good meal. A week of good meals. And a hair wash. “We don’t know her name but we’ve seen her at the drop in centre. She wears…she’s…”  
“Grungy?” Mulder supplied. He never minded coming across as the goof.  
Nico took the cigarette from the girl and dragged on it. The orange point sparked and hissed and Scully felt her nose twitch. She pressed the hanky tighter.  
“Half this town is grunge, the other half is skater. Gonna be real hard to find her.”  
Mulder nodded and pulled out a chair. He looked ridiculous, jammed into its small seat, in his charcoal suit. “Did you know Riley Sanchez or Ami Rahman? Selina Sandoval?”  
The girl stood up and walked to the sink. She poured water into a Disney cup and sipped it.  
Nico shrugged. “Riley and Ami was here. But I didn’t know ‘em. Never met Selina.”  
“How long have you lived here?” Scully asked.  
He squinted at her. The piercing in his brow winking. “Too fucking long, man. But I don’t know your missing girl. I only know girls who are here. If they left, don’t mean there’s something going on, does it?”  
Mulder held Nico’s gaze, but not in an intimidating way. Mulder could unnerve people but generally not with fierceness, usually with intensity. He walked to Scully’s side. “Thank you, both.”  
He guided her towards the stairs. “Want to look at the rooms?”  
“We need permission from the manager, Mulder. The office is over there.”  
They waited in the stuffy hall. The boom of music thumped from up the stairs. The door opened with a long creak. A young woman stood in the door frame.  
“It’s you,” Scully said.


	11. Chapter 11

Selina Sandoval backed into the room until she was butting up against the small desk. Mulder crossed his arms. Scully pinched the bridge of her nose. The already stifling air in the small room smelled like stale garlic and cheap tobacco. Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance. Scully could feel the pressure pushing against her temples.  
“Where have you been, Ms Sandoval?” Mulder’s voice was soft against the grating wheeze of the fan on the floor in the corner.  
The young woman said nothing, but tucked her hair behind her ears. It was shorter than the poster they’d seen days earlier.   
“You were reported missing,” Scully said.  
“I work here every day. I clean. I wash. I buy food,” Selina said. She looked at the manager. He coughed hard and dug a dirty hanky out of his shirt pocket.  
“People were worried about you,” Scully said.  
“I don’t understand why people think I was missing. Who reported me?”  
Mulder looked at Scully. Scully couldn’t recall the detail of the report. “Marshall Comans. Do you remember him?”  
Selina flushed. “Of course. He was my friend.”  
“But you didn’t tell him you were leaving.”  
She clasped the crucifix around her neck and Scully reflexively did the same. “I didn’t think he would care that much. And I didn’t go anywhere. I just didn’t go back to the centre.”  
“And why was that?” Mulder said, staring at the manager who was chewing at the skin on the side of his thumb.  
“I…it was…”  
Scully squeezed her eyes shut as a crack of thunder hit overhead. When she opened her eyes again, Selina was crying quietly. Mulder turned on his empathetic expression and stepped towards her.  
“What was it, Selina? Why didn’t you go back there? What happened?”  
“Marshall…he…”  
“Did he cheat on you, Selina?”  
Selina rushed past. Scully followed her into the hallway. Lightning lit up the dankness. “Selina! It’s okay. You can tell me what happened. You’re not in any trouble.”  
The young woman bawled for a few minutes and Scully stood, unsure whether to comfort her or to wait like the professional she should. Mulder would not have hesitated to step closer and embrace this woman. But he was talking on the phone in sharp tones. Thunder rolled around then burst in static spurts.  
“Marshall told me he wanted to marry me. He said he would wait until I was 18 and then we would move away and have kids and a house. We used to go to the magic shows at the centre. They always made me feel that anything was possible, you know?”  
Hopes, dreams, illusions. Where do you draw the line? Scully handed Selina another tissue. Mulder slipped his phone back in to his pocket and joined them.  
“What happened?” Scully asked.  
“That last show, there was a new trick. The lights went out, like so black it was as though the magician had sucked all the light out. I couldn’t see anything. I blinked and held my breath and when I opened my eyes Marshall was gone. I looked around. People were laughing and chatting like nothing unusual had happened. I went out of the room and saw him going out of the building. I followed. I saw him with another girl.”  
Selina sniffed and shuddered out a breath. Her eyes were puffy and shiny, even in the miserable light of the hallway. A pair of young punk girls, arm in arm, walked past, knocking into Scully. Mulder grimaced and tapped his nose. She felt the ooze and bunched a tissue under her nose.  
“He didn’t even tried to hide. It was like he was seeing this other girl all the time, right under my nose. In plain sight. I felt stupid. I believed him. But he was a liar and I wanted to run away. But that didn’t go so well the last time. So I stayed. Right here.”  
“In plain sight,” Mulder said to her, but keeping his eyes on Scully. He lifted his chin up slightly, silently asking her if she was okay.  
“The police investigated, Selina, when you were reported missing. We’ve seen the reports.”  
“The police don’t care. They would have asked like three people in the centre if they’d seen me and then they would have stopped looking. People like me, we can just disappear. Nobody cares. We are invisible.”


	12. Chapter 12

Back at the motel, heavy rain pelted the windows with a monotony that Scully found comforting. She fanned her face with the out of date attractions magazine and twisted her feet around to release the pressure in her calves. Mulder had told her the bones under the hall were animal, likely a dog, buried years before construction. Selina Sandoval was never missing. Maybe the other girls were here too, or maybe they just didn’t want to be found or saved or even to go on. The police could do more than they could. Should do more.  
The door opened and Mulder walked in with a take out bag containing chicken burritos and two bottles of Coke. She lay on the bed, her body working overtime to cool her. He put the food on the small table and sat down on the end of her bed unknotting his tie and dropping it over the bobbly bedspread.  
“What do you think Scully?”  
“About what?” She sat up to sip the soda and felt it track down her gullet. Out of sight but most definitely doing its job, fizzing and cooling, supplying her body with a quick hit of sugar.  
He handed her a burrito. “Ami and Riley. Carol Arwen. Grunge girl?”  
“I think we see what we want to see, we hear what we want to hear. We observe and we ignore, we weigh and measure and we interpret and we add meaning where there is none. Not always consciously but because humans love to tell stories to explain things, to understand, to cope.”  
The spicy chicken was tender and she realised how hungry she was, how much her body needed the fuel. It was working overtime not just to cool her, but to kill her. The cancer cells constantly dividing. The normal cells trying to save her.  
“You might not always be able to see things happening, but it doesn’t mean it’s not taking place.”  
Mulder put his burrito down and turned to her. His eyes were heavy with sadness. He always understood. That was the problem.  
“I’m sorry, Mulder.”  
“Don’t…”  
She scooted forward and took his hand in hers. His was warm, heavy. “You have to face it. I have to face it. I want you to promise me that you won’t self-destruct. That you won’t lose yourself again. I need you to promise me.”  
“I can’t. You know I can’t. But this isn’t going to defeat us…you. I’m still looking. I have to keep looking.”  
She pulled his head to her chest and let him breathe onto her skin. His hot breath, the softness of his lips against her made her feel a rush of emotion, of hope even. “I know. I wouldn’t expect you to do anything but.”  
“When you were taken, I was wild with anger. It was so meaningless, everything. But you came back then. Nobody saw you. You just appeared.”  
“Like magic,” she said, chuffing out a small laugh into his hair.  
“It was the best trick, Scully.” He looked up at her and kissed her. She stiffened at first, but her body relaxed and she kissed him back until she couldn’t breathe.  
When they pulled apart, his eyes glistened with tears.  
“Let’s go home, Scully.”


End file.
